


Some Deaths Can['t] Be Prevented

by Garecc



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Because there are actually no interactions between theese two, Character Death Fix, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Growing Old Together, Growing Up, Hearing Voices, Hurt/Comfort, I know this looks like a crackfic, Insanity, It just happened, Like you will have had to checked the Octavain tag, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mental Instability, Only those worthy will find this. If you are reading this, Personal Growth, Please comment., Schizophrenia, Slow Burn, So this work wont get much attention, This was never meant to be romantic, but after months of making this au, okay look, or the Pollux tag, please show that you liked it, thats the only way i think you could've found this, unless you put a very spesific amount of tags in the search
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 13:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garecc/pseuds/Garecc
Summary: In a single instant, a life can be saved, or taken.A single choice of a single person in a single moment can decide the fate of another.In this universe, Octavian lives.In this universe, instead of Will standing by and letting Octavian kill himself, Will tackled him.This causes a multitude of changes.Nico slashed through Octavian's robes, and knocked away Michael Kahale.The oanger still fired towards Gaea.The explosion still killed Leo.Yet Octavian remained on the ground.Alive.Please read the notes.





	1. The Start Of Somthing Terrible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youurelovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youurelovely/gifts).



> I have been working on this idea for months and months now.  
> If I write anything badly, please tell me. I am not an expert on schizophrenia by any means but I hope this does this justice.  
> This story... While not written out in a readable format as im typing this, is very close to me.  
> I wrote Octavian through hell. I wrote him through years of mental issues, and more than one traumatizing experience.
> 
> Octavian goes through so much over the course of this story.  
> He hated himself. He was suicidal.  
> He was depressed and had crushing guilt weighing on him.  
> He isolated himself from others and didn't trust easy.  
> Yet he kept going.  
> He went through everyone he ever knew and loved leaving him. He went through 3 horrible years of voices in his head telling him false prophecies that he fully believed were divine in origin.  
> He was completely alone while surrounded by people in camp Jupiter.  
> Even Micheal and him grew apart, he had always thought that even if everyone else hated him Micheal wouldn't. And he never did, but they here apart.  
> Then the war happened and so much shit piled up, and Octavian's delusions only fueled the fire and there was no one to stop him or to help him  
> But in the end?  
> He lived, he grew, and he's okay. He made it. He reached the finish line and he survived.  
> He found himself able to trust again.  
> He did it.  
> He didn't give up.  
> I really like this story.
> 
> Like,,, he did it. He got through. He's in a good place by the end. Things were bad, terrible for such a long time.  
> But he did it.  
> He has a husband who supports him, he has a job in a place he loves, and while he still has issues, and his life is far from perfect, he made it. He's okay. Things got better.  
> He lived.  
> He made it.  
> He did it.  
> rl  
> And he didn't heal overnight. He didn't get better in the blink of an eye.  
> But he got better eventually.  
> He healed.  
> He grew.  
> He made it.  
> In the end, he's alive and happy.  
> He made it.

In a single instant, a life can be saved, or taken.

A single choice of a single person in a single moment can decide the fate of another.

In this universe, Octavian lives.

In this universe, instead of Will standing by and letting Octavian kill himself, Will tackled him. 

This causes a multitude of changes.

Nico slashed through Octavian's robes, and knocked away Michael Kahale.

The oanger still fired towards Gaea.

The explosion still killed Leo.

Yet Octavian remained on the ground.

Yet Octavian remained alive.

 

On a sunny afternoon, instead of dying in a golden, fiery explosion in the sky, Octavian was taken into custody by the Greek Demigods.

On a sunny afternoon, Reyna resumed command of Camp Jupiter.

On a sunny afternoon, Octavian remained alive.

On a sunny afternoon, a single choice, by a single person, made in a single instant, changed the fate of a single teenager.

 

Octavian was put to an impromptu trial and was put into the custody of the Greeks to do as they wished with him.

He was a prisoner.

But yet, he was alive.

 

Years ago, 3, if I'm not mistaken, the basement of the Big House was where a son of Hermes named Chris Rodriguez was kept. A son of Hermes from the other side of a war. A misguided teenager driven against his family. A mere child driven insane from the twists and turns of the never-ending malevolent labyrinth, at the hands of the ghostly King Midas.

 

Now, the same basement of the Big House served as a prison to a different misguided teenager, from the other side of another war. A legacy of Apollo. A man who was thought to be deranged. A child who just wanted to defend his home.

 

_ Octavian, Legacy of Apollo. _

Octavian hadn't been  _ fine _ in a very, very long time.

He hadn't been  _ good _ in even longer.

Octavian grew up in New Rome, orphaned at 10, he joined Camp Jupiter at 11.

Octavian  _ lived _ for Camp Jupiter. 

He  _ breathed _ for Rome. 

His  _ blood flowed _ for his city.

And yet, there he was, a prisoner of the  _ enemy _ .

A prisoner who would almost certainly never to arrive back home.

A prisoner, tried and convicted.

Octavian was born in New Rome to an unmarried couple.

He was born to serve the gods. 

He was born to lay down his life if it meant the betterment of the legion.

At least, that's what  _ he  _ believed.

At least, that’s what he was  _ taught _ to believe.

The Greeks had attacked his home.

The Greeks had declared war by sending fire at New Rome.

They had attacked first.

They offered no explanation.

They offered no condolences.

They fled.

And then the  _ praetor _ ran after them.

Treason.

Collaboration with the enemy.

Treason is always death sentence.

Reyna, if she were to ever to return, should, under many generations old law, have been killed.

And yet?

_She_ _wasn't_.

And yet?

_ Octavian was punished. _

Thrown in the basement of a camp he didn't belong in.

Left to the mercy of the enemy.

Left to rot far, far, away from his city.

Left to rot far, far, away from his home.

 

He had acted with integrity, at least, he had acted with integrity _at first._

He couldn't tell you when exactly his motives turned towards himself, nor would he ever want to.

Octavian looks back at those final few years at Camp Jupiter as the worst part of his life.

I, would say he is correct.

 

At first, Octavian wanted to avenge his city. Avenge his home.

Avenge his people.

At first, Octavian had only wanted to protect his home, his life.

But… then, at some point, he simply  _ didn't _ .

 

Octavian had always wanted to be remembered with honor. For his legacy to be one he could be proud of.

If you really think about it, maybe you could say his desire to be remembered pushed him led him down the dastardly path he took through his late teens.

 

Octavian the  _ Brave _ .

Octavian the  _ Valiant _ .

Octavian,  _ Savior of Rome _ .

Octavian,  _ Pontifex Maximus _ .

Octavian, _Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata_

 

But, in the end, he was remembered quite differently than he would have imagined.

 

Octavian the  _ Bloodthirsty _ .

Octavian the  _ Power Hungry. _

Octavian the  _ Deranged _ .

Octavian the  _ Disgraceful. _

 

He never wanted to end up like this.

Not really.

When Octavian first joined Camp Jupiter, he had been _exited, ecstatic,_ and _eager_ to rise in the ranks.

He had looked at the legion as where he was supposed to go. His future. His destiny. His legacy. What he was _supposed_ to do in life.

But, what they don't tell you is that Camp Jupiter is an  _ Army _ . 

Not a  _ summer camp. _

Octavian had always been on the frailer side, too pale, or too skinny, or even too weak, and he had never had the best constitution.

He had never been the most well liked, either.

He had few powers to mention, and had never been the best at making friends.

He was quick to trust others…

…and even easier to use.

 

And so we start our story in a dark, dank basement. Our protagonist with thick  _ celestial bronze _ cuffs around his wrists, and chained to the wall.

He had been stripped of his _jewelry_ and _robes_ , stripped of his  _ weapons _ , stripped of his  _ titles _ , stripped of his  _ pride, _ and stripped of his  _ home _ . 

 

 

_ They _ would not stop mocking how pathetic he is. How far he had fallen.

He decided to ignore  _ them. _

Octavian screamed himself hoarse when anyone  _ dared _ to approach him. Roman or Greek, it didn't matter.

He screamed anyway.

To the few Romans who came, he called them traitors. 

He screamed that they were collaborating with the enemy. That they were committing treason by leaving their superior chained to the wall in a dark, lonely, basement. He screamed that they should free him. 

He  _ screamed _ .

He  _ begged _ .

He  _ pleaded _ for them to free him.

They didn't.

They tried to calm him down. 

They tried to get him to listen.

They tried to explain.

But eventually, Octavian chased them off with his demeaning words and sharp insults. 

He had never felt more alone. 

Even with  _ them _ in his head, he had never felt more alone.

He treated the Greeks who came to see him far worse than the Romans. 

They were his enemy. He came here to eliminate them and return the gods to their rightful glory.

_ They _ didn't like the Greeks.

_ They _ were screaming to kill them. To tear them apart.

Instead of doing what  _ they _ wanted, he called the Greeks a wide range of foul insults and slurs. 

They were the enemy.

The Greeks were.

They attacked New Rome.

No one bothered to explain things to him, at least, not in a way Octavian was willing to accept.

It didn't help that  _ they _ wouldn’t stop mocking him.

He screamed until his voice was gone, and even then he made hoarse croaking sounds at those who dared go near him.

He didn't try to escape.

What was the point?

Where would he  _ go _ ? To the mortal world to be devoured by monsters? 

_ They _ tried to tell him that he could escape.

But he knew  _ they _ were lying.

He was alone in this. He was alone in his imprisonment. Any allies he might have had had forsaken him.

And _ They  _ weren't really allies, were they?

 

Eventually, Connor and Travis Stoll come to take off the shackles.

When Octavian hears the door open, his first thought is that they have come to hurt him.

The second is that they have come to kill him.

And _ They _ certainly weren't debunking the idea.

They try talking to him, but Octavian was yelling. Screaming. He didn't want any Greek near him.

They destroyed his city.

They attacked him home.

They killed his people.

He shrunk away when they approached him, flattening himself against the wall.

He  _ tried _ to tell them to leave.

He  _ tried  _ to get away from him.

_ They  _ were screaming at him to attack the  _ graecus _ .

The Stolls told him that they are not here to hurt him.

Octavian didn't believe them for a moment.

They shared a look, and walked towards him.

Octavian's heart was beating so loudly he would have sworn that they could have heard it from across the room.

Octavian’s heart was beating so loudly it almost blocked  _ them _ out.

Octavian refused to let them come near him, not without a fight at least.

He is knocked down almost pitifully easily, reduced to almost pitiful screaming and thrashing.

The Greeks were  _ touching him _

Their warship has attacked his home.

They attacked his city

They were  _ touching him. _

Disgust and rage and  _ fear _ was all he felt.

Connor held his arms steady while Travis took off the shackles.

Octavian was screaming.  _ Screaming. _

Half thought out sentences and half panicked insults spewed from his lips like water gushing from a crack in a dam.

He was scared.

He didn't know what they planned to do with him.

He ignored the tears congregating in his eyes. They meant nothing.

He ignores the terror coiled in his stomach like a snake. It meant nothing.

He ignores the pulsing fear he felt when they were near him. It meant nothing

_ They _ certainly didn't ignore it.

He is  _ less _ than a prisoner of war.

He is their  _ enemy _ . Who they can punish  _ however they think fit for his crimes. _

They have no reason to keep him alive and unharmed.

The shackles were off his wrists.

The sons of ~~Mercury~~ Hermes left his prison.

Octavian collapsed to the floor, scooting against the wall, before he backed into the corner. His arms were wrapped around himself, and his knees pulled to his chest.

He ignored the tears running down his cheeks. They meant nothing.

He was ignoring the consistent, uncontrollable tremor in his hands, he told himself that it was from wearing the shackles for so, so long.

He knew he was lying.

_ They _ knew he was lying.

But he wasn't ready to accept any other explanation.

Besides,  _ they  _ were already screaming at that he was weak. That he was a failure to Rome.

He will never admit to crying after they left. 

He would never admit to any sort of weakness for a long, long time.

He didn't eat the food provided, it was probably poisoned.

_ They  _ told him that.

He didn't want to believe  _ them. _

After what felt like eons, but was likely not ever a day, he decided to eat.

He needed nutrients. 

Poisoned or not, he needed nutrients.

He managed to stomach a bread roll and a glass of water before anxiety all but consumed him.

The food was not poisoned, but our dear protagonist had no way of knowing that.

He didn't eat any after that.

He didn't touch the food again.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat anything else.

He didn't want to die.

He might have been in hell, but he didn't want to die

 

~0~

 

Octavian is described as insane in The Blood Of Olympus. His laughter is described as brittle. He wouldn't listen to reason and didn't notice his robes were snagged.

 

~0~

 

Octavian ends up losing even anything even resembling hope that anyone will save him. That someone will break him out. 

He’s  _ trapped _ .

He’s a  _ prisoner _ .

He just  _ screams _ at anyone who comes near him, but it's _all_ a bluff. If you take even a step towards him he cowers against the wall, his screaming more frantic.

His body language terrified.

He cries  _ uncontrollably _ if you get any closer.

He is scared.

_ They _ are screaming that he will be killed.

_ They _ won't leave him alone.

_ They _ won't be quiet.

_ They _ will not shut up.

 

Now, to clear up any misunderstandings, the Greeks did  _ not _ wish for him to be killed. 

Some may have. To be perfectly honest, it is likely a great number wished for Octavian's quick demise. But  _ not _ the majority. 

They decided to wait for punishment. Octavian was very obviously not in his right mind.

 

~0~

 

Those in camp Jupiter never particularly liked Octavian. He was a nice kid at first, but grew cynical with age. 

He grew paranoid and manipulative.

He  _ changed. _

No one liked him enough to visit a screaming teenager who will accuse them of treason.

No one would bother to care.

Not even  _ Michael Kahale.  _

Who, at one point would have said he loved Octavian.

But that point was long past. 

No one came to see Octavian for days, other than the routine meals, no one entered his prison.

Unlike Chris Rodriguez, there was no Clarrise to stay with him. He was alone.

 

On the fifth day of residing in the basement, of being held in a makeshift prison, a Greek demigod named Pollux came to visit.

  
  
  
  
  


 


	2. Pollux Is A Sweetheart Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for 9 months my good ole friend @local-memes on tumblr yelled at me until i updated for the past few days so thank him! In all honestly i am glad im updating this
> 
> This chapter follows Pollux going to see Octs, and the start where i began loving these idiots so much begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway so i know it's been 10 months but here yall go.  
> No beta we die like men

Pollux.

There is a good chance you have heard of him, or his namesake.

Pollux is one of the twin sons of Dionysus.

Half of a broken whole.

His twin, Castor died in a battle defending camp half-blood. He was very brave.

Pollux in the battle for Olympus, broke his arm and said he could still fight despite this.

They are both very brave

Pollux, as a son of Dionysus, deals in insanity. 

He had never been the best at growing grapes, and he didn't wish to  _ touch  _ alcohol knowing how likely it would be for him to become an alcoholic.

Octavian had captured Pollux’s interest. 

The stories of the deranged roman both concerned, and intrigued him.

He wondered if he could assist.

 

He had been told that Octavian would scream and scream. 

That whenever anyone entered his prison, he would yell until either his voice gave out or cower until they left.

Like a caged animal.

 

Pollux, against advice, decided to pay a visit to the camps newest resident. From the rumors and what those who had gone to see him, Octavian was completely insane. Batshit crazy. Screaming and yelling.

So Pollux decided that made him the best person to try and talk to him.

 

Walking into the basement was ominous.

The stairs creaked with every step, and the silence threatened to swallow him whole.

 

Pollux slowly pushed the door open.

 

Now, Pollux, for all he had heard of Octavian, had a pretty sound mental image of him. He had been compared to Luke, so Pollux was expecting someone fit, tall, strong, your typical leader type. 

 

The figure he saw slumped against the far wall was none of those things.

 

As the door opened, Octavian's head snapped up.

The room was.. Very gloomy.

A single lightbulb buzzed on the ceiling, casting dark shadows across the room.

Octavian had dark bags under his eyes, and he watched Pollux like a hawk.

The moment Pollux stepped into the room, Octavian's form grew rigid. “GO AWAY.” He shouted. “VADE ET IRRUMABO AUFERETUR” ((Latin for go the fuck away))

Pollux calmly closed the door behind him, surveying the empty ‘prison.’

Octavian clearly flinched. “LEAVE ME ALONE, GRAECUS.” Octavian looked almost frozen. A deer caught in the headlights. 

“No,” Pollux said calmly, sitting down against the door. 

Octavian stared at him for a long moment. “GO AWAY YOU, YOU INFERIOR GREEK SCUM”

Pollux said nothing as he sat there, staring at Octavian. Waiting.

 

Octavian continued screaming profanities for.. Awhile. Pollux wasn't exactly keeping track of time. But long enough for Octavian to run out of insults to scream in both English and Latin.

Now, contrary to what you may be thinking, Pollux did have a plan. Well, more of an idea of what he may be able to do to help Octavian. By the time Octavian had stopped screaming, his voice was hoarse and his chest was heaving.

 

Octavian eyes were tearing holes in Pollux's skull. “Why. Haven't. You. Left.” Octavian grit out.

“Because, I am here to help you.”

Octavian looked at him skeptically. “No one can  _ help me.  _ Much less a graecus.”

Pollux sighed, and decided to finally approach now that he was done screaming.

Before Pollux could move even a step forward, Octavian had flattened himself against the wall. “DON'T COME  _ ANY  _ CLOSER. I DON'T WANT YOU ANYWHERE  _ NEAR ME. _ ” His voice was hoarse and crackly from screaming, eyes wild in panic.

As they said, like a caged animal.

Pollux nodded, and backed up again. “Okay.”

 

Octavian.. Didn't expect that. He expected Pollux to approach and kill him.

_ They  _ expected that. 

_ They  _ told him it was dangerous. That Pollux was his executioner. That he was facing his death in the face.

_ They  _ must have been lying

 

Octavian stared at him in almost surprise, he stayed flattened against the wall, but looked considerably less panicked than before

Pollux was silent. 

“Why are you  _ really  _ here Graecus?”

“I’m here to help you, and my name is Pollux by the way.”

“I don't  _ need help _ from  _ anyone.  _ Much less a  _ graecus.  _ I will win glory for Rome! Those who are loyal to me will come for me. You cannot keep me imprisoned forever. I will be free and I will win glory! You are all  _ weak  _ for not killing me.”

“How so?”

“I am  _ your enemy.  _ Yet none of you have  _ slain me.  _ It's  _ weak. _ ”

“Do you  _ want  _ to die?” 

“Of  _ course not.  _ But you are going to kill me I'm certain. Why keep around someone who wishes your camp  _ razed? _ ”

“We have no plans on killing you Octavian” Pollux assured him. 

“As if I am expected to believe such baseless lies.” 

“I promise, you will be in no mortal danger in this camp.”

“Who am I to trust your word? I am certain there are murderous people who would slay me like a dog.”

“And that will  _ not  _ happen Octavian.”

Octavian curled into his arms, making himself seem smaller.

“Can I come closer?”

Octavian nodded once. Quickly.

“Tell me when to stop, alright?”

Octavian nodded again, quicker than the last.

Pollux took a step forward, and while Octavian flinched, he didn't say to stop.

So pollux took another step.

And then another.

Halving the distance between them.

“Stop.” Octavian's voice was muffled by his arms, yet still audible.

Pollux sat down again.

The silence was palpable.

A hardly touched serving of the camp’s breakfast sat on a plate to Octavian's right. A half-empty water bottle to his left. 

“Okay. Do you know what happened when the Argo II attacked New Rome?”

Octavian looked up. “You attacked unprovoked. 16 fatalities including 3 children. 45 injured. Homes destroyed. You attacked a civilian city, a declaration of war.” 

“There were Eidolons aboard the Argo II. 3 of them.”

“No.” Octavian looked  _ shocked. _

“Do you know what an Eidolon is?”

Octavian felt like ice was running through his veins. Creeping through capillaries and freezing his arteries. “...malicious spirits that can possess you and compel you.”

“Exactly. One forced now late Leo Valdez to fire upon New Rome.”

Octavian looked.. Ghostly pale.

“It was not his fault, nor will to fire upon New Rome. It was a minion of Gaia.”

“Oh.” 

“Gaia was the one who attacked New Rome.”

 

Octavian felt like his brain was crumbling as this information filled holes he hadn't been aware of being there.

There were no comments from  _ Them  _ as this information slotted into place and  _ it made sense. _

And he had been  _ too blind  _ and  _ too arrogant  _ to see that the greek’s motives didn't  _ make sense.  _

 

Octavian felt shame well up in his chest as tears collected in his eyes. “ _ Oh. _ ”

He pressed his face into his arms attempting to hide his face in his arms. To hide his expression.

_ They  _ had nothing to say. And the silence was practically deafening.

 

“Octavian?” Pollux moved to sit next to him. Octavian flinched away but said nothing. 

 

Octavian didn't want to cry.

But the tears in his eyes  _ refused  _ to be blinked away.

And he couldn't just hope Pollux didn't  _ see  _ them. He was right there with a  _ stupidly concerned expression  _ that he  _ didn't understand  _ because he  _ nearly killed everyone here.  _ He  _ would have killed  _ _ everyone here.  _ He didn't  _ understand  _ why Pollux could even  _ be  _ concerned about him

 

“Hey.. Octavian. It's alright.” He sounded  _ so concerned  _ and Octavian  _ couldn't understand.  _

“Are you-  _ were there truly eidolons?” _

“Why would I lie?”

Octavian blinked furiously. Trying in vain to stop the barrage of panicked thoughts of  _ what else was he wrong about? _

Pollux reached out an arm to touch his shoulder, but decided against it when Octavian started speaking. 

“I- That  _ makes so much sense _ .”

“I mean..”

“I- I  _ brought an entire army against you over a fucking misunderstanding. _ ”

“In the end, it was a good thing because then we could fight together against Gaia..”

“I just-  _ 16 people died.  _ You attacked my  _ home.  _ You declared  _ war.  _ I thought-  _ I was so angry.  _ And now  _ I can't even fault you.  _ Eidolons.  _ Eidolons. _ ” 

Pollux didn't know what to say. 

“And now I’m-  _ I’m going to be killed by you greeks and there is nothing I can do. _ ”

“We’re  _ not  _ going to kill you.”

“You expect me to  _ believe that? _ ” Octavian laughed mirthlessly and spread his arms. As if gesturing to a nonexistent crowd. “I’ve been here chained up like a  _ rabid dog _ for  _ who knows how long?  _ I am a  _ prisoner  _ and nothing more.”

“5 days. And yes. I expect you to believe we are not going to kill you”

Octavian stared at him, then looked away. Focusing on something across the room. 

He attempted to discreetly wipe tears from his eyes, but when it's only you and who you’re talking to in a room that's nigh impossible “Why are you still here? You delivered your..  _ Message. _ ”

“Because, as I said, I'm here to help you Octs.”

“ _ Don't _ call me that.”

“Alright then.”

“...Why would you ‘help’ me anyway? What's the point of ‘helping’ me? Your  _ prisoner _ ?”

“Why shouldn't I help you?”

Octavian stared at him incredulously. “Because I am your  _ prisoner.” _

“And?”

“ _ I was going to cut every single person in this camp to shreds. I wanted your blood to stain this ground. I wanted to revel in your demise. _ ”

Pollux blinked at him. “A tad morbid there?”

Octavian’s expression grew somehow more sour. “ _ Why are you here? I could have killed you without a second thought or a spot of guilt. _ ”

“Because I want to help you. Honestly, how many times do I have to say that?”

“I am your  _ would be murderer. _ ”

“Yeah. You are. But I don't see you jumping at my throat to kill me right now, so it's fine.”

“This makes no sense.  _ You  _ make no sense.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I don't recall you ever seeing a healer after the battle. Just the trial thing and then you being locked down here”

“That's because I didn't. And I didn't exactly expect I would. After all, I  _ tried to kill everyone in this camp. _ ”

“We’ve been over this. I don't care about you wanting to kill everyone right now. Were you hurt in the fighting?”

“Not too terribly no. I had an army guarding me.”

“Thats a yes.”

Octavian glared at him. “I am fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“I heard that's what you said right before you nearly launched yourself into the atmosphere.”

Octavian merely glared at him. 

Pollux smiled humorlessly. “Another reason why I am lead to believe you need help. You nearly killed yourself and apparently _ didn't notice _ .”

Octavian scowled at him. He didn't know what to say.

“ _ Fine.  _ I admit that I have some  _ not terrible  _ burns. From my bracelets and such. Nothing terrible. Nothing life-threatening.”

“May I see?”

Octavian  _ glared,  _ but pulled down the hem of his sleeve. “It's  _ fine. _ ” 

The burn was certainly  _ not  _ fine. In fact, it looked rather serious. Pollux had been expecting some blisters, maybe red skin. 

Not very obvious  _ burns  _ that look like what happens after lava splashes you _.  _

“Yeah, that's really  _ not  _ fine Octs..avian.” Pollux caught himself.

Octavian looked at him scrutinizingly. “It won't kill me.”

“So?”

Octavian huffed. “It's fine. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Pollux shook his head. “That doesn't mean you should just.. Leave it to fester?”

“it’ll heal. It's fine.”

“Yeah no. I’m going to get someone to help.”

“You don't need to.”

“I am here to  _ help  _ you Octavian. And this,” Pollux gestured at his wrist. “Is why  _ I am certain I need too. _ ”

“Alright.  _ Fine.  _ Go get your ‘healers’ or whatever you call them.”

“You’ll be alright while I'm gone?”

“ _ Yes. I’ve been alone for days and didn't want you here in the first place _ ”

“Oh. And I thought we were on good terms now.” Pollux teased lightly. “I’ll be back soon. Bye”

Octavian couldn't muster the will to glare at him.

_ They  _ had been oddly quiet since he came in.

Mere mumbles in the back of his mind.

It was nice, the silence.

“Goodbye, Pollux,” Octavian muttered more of second nature than anything. 

Pollux smiled at him, and stood up. “I’ll be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's said in BoO that Octavian's jewelry was smoking in response to the ammo on the Oanger. The issue: Gold doesn't smoke. It melts. The smoke was Octavains skin burning. That's the only explanation I can think of.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when I'll update this. I don't know IF I'll ever update this.  
> I want to tell this story, but it will take me a long time.  
> I really want to tell the story I've written for him.  
> But I don't know how people will take it.  
> I don't know.  
> I really like the style I went with while writing this.  
> my tumblr is grace--the-fangirl so if you have any questions, feel free to send an ask or dm me.  
> Please comment if you like this, I've procrastinated posting this for months and months now.


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